End of an Era (Project Chrysalis Book 2) by John Gold (popular books to read .TXT) 📕

a priest.” The dwarf is wearing a robe. “You can see for yourself whether we have any dark items on us. The shields let us through, so we can’t be enemies.”

A rope ladder is thrown down to us, and we climb up onto the wall. For twenty minutes, the dwarves grill us about the strength of the undead and their levels from the swamps to Drag. Silvana Forest butts up against the mountains, so the information we give them is just as good and fresh as what their scouts have.

As soon as they find out that we’re looking for Miridia’s main altar, they refuse to work with us. The dwarves don’t want to share information, all claiming that they don’t worship the forgotten goddess anymore.

“We let you in thinking that an altar must have been built here in Drag, but it turns out you’re looking for the old one. No decent dwarf will tell you where it is.”

“Why is that?”

“We turned away from belief in Miridia about a thousand years ago, not long after our city was founded. Decent dwarves can live to a ripe old age of five or six hundred, so there aren’t any left who remember that era.”

Nargu, the priest, is clothed in robes belonging to Amira, the patron of all life mages. It’s light green and decorated with flowering trees and leaves. His long gray beard and faded eyes give away his old age, almost making him look like a saint. Maybe, he is one.

“Mr. Dwarf, are you immortal?”

“Dwarves and elves alike just live longer than other races. Dragons live thousands of years of course, but it’s only the gods who are immortal.”

“Where can I find mention of Miridia’s cult and temples? I looked for information in a bunch of sources, though I couldn’t find anything. Somebody must have destroyed all the books that included that kind of thing.”

The old man’s eyes flash for a second. The atmosphere changes, and he feels different -incredibly powerful. Is that the way he fights or something? The feeling is familiar, though it’s not that thing from the astral. Something weaker. A god? But why would it be so weak then?

The dwarf’s voice has changed, as well. “Young man, come with me. I’ll take you both to the Dgar archives, where you can find recordings from that time. It’s the oldest information we have left.”

It doesn’t look like the old priest wishes me any harm, though the strength he’s emitting is unnerving.

My skin feels dry thanks to his Fire Magic, my body is warm because of his Life Magic, and his Earth Magic gives off a tension. From the priest, it kind of tingles. The old dwarf glows slightly, an airiness in his stride.

We walk through the three rings of outer defenses. High-level dwarves wearing heavy, matte-black armor are manning the inner walls and the tunnel leading to the city. Several of them try to stop us a few times, though they apologize once they get within a couple of meters and let us pass.

“Sagie, this priest must be really popular. See how the other dwarves practically bow down to him?” Yet another set of guards lets us pass. Nargu waves a hand, and they simply nod their heads.

“He feels completely different, a hundred times stronger than when we first started talking.”

Femida thinks for a little while. She has some guesses, but she doesn’t share them with me yet.

The library is in the city’s upper levels, one of the most ancient. Nargu orders the librarian and guards not to bother us.

“Mr. Nargu, why are you helping us?”

The old dwarf smiles heartily, and I can feel the warmth coming from him.

“It’s divine will, Sagie.”

He leaves without filling us in any more than that, and we get to work looking for information about Miridia’s cult.

***

Bernard was enjoying some fruit from the elvish gardens that offered huge buffs to strength and agility. The elves could live in complete isolation from the rest of the world. They had everything in their forests. Their fruits and vegetables were the best in the inhabited world. At the northern border of the Spring Forest in Katain, the Black Rose was helping with the defense.

It was after Bernard had raised the troops for his next attack on the undead that two gods got in touch with him at once.

“Hi, Amira, hi, Teur. What’s up?”

“Are you busy?”

“A little, we’re about to get to work on the undead. I can do this in my sleep though, so talking’s fine.” Bernard summoned six fire elementals to protect him and headed toward the undead.

“Do you remember that kid? Sagie, I think his name was.”

“What, he showed up?”

Two enormous fire balls the size of wagons went flying at the undead. Bernard had ten times more experience than his opponents, so he was more than capable of shattering their formation and ruining their plans. Still, one figure alone, even if he is a god, is never enough to take the field. With that in mind, the entire Black Rose clan was working to destroy the chimeric undead. It wasn’t that Bernard could take them all on alone; the players themselves needed to bring home the win. The difference between the Black Rose warriors and the undead was down to just 20 levels.

Amira replied for Teur.

“He’s off with some girl, and the two of them accepted a quest to destroy Miridia’s main altar. Bernard, he somehow managed to get in touch with my saint! With the dwarves! In a besieged city! I recognized the boy from the stories, took control, and did what I could to help him. The winds are changing. That boy will make the first real changes for the gods.”

Bernard laughed and stepped away from the battle, obviously tickled by what his old, immortal friend had said.

“Amira,